


The Wives of the King

by fandomblr



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, F/M, Polyamorous Character, Polyamorous relationship, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomblr/pseuds/fandomblr
Summary: Weeks before the royal wedding of King Finwe and Miriel, the bride's feelings for Indis resurface as Indis herself confesses her love for Miriel.
Relationships: Finwë/Indis (Tolkien), Finwë/Indis/Míriel Þerindë | Míriel Serindë, Finwë/Míriel Þerindë | Míriel Serindë, Indis/Míriel Þerindë | Míriel Serindë
Kudos: 4





	The Wives of the King

Míriel was standing up stitching what would be her wedding dress in the vast hall of the palace of Tirion. Unsatisfied with her work, however, her skillful hands ceased all sewing and she sunk down on the floor.  _ I am not going to have another meltdown _ , she thought to herself but knew better than to hope for such things. 

Anyone who was gazing at Míriel’s life from afar would think that there were no possible reasons for the sorrow that consumed her. Her hand in marriage was given to Finwë Ñoldóran, the King of the Noldor, a noble lord who loved her dearly and had expressed his affections for her. In truth, Míriel knew that she should consider herself lucky, for many an elven maiden envied her place. And for a while she had thought herself fortunate, convincing herself into believing that she loved Finwë as well. How could she, a mere craftswoman that was of no noble blood, reject the affections of an elf beloved by all? It was not that she did not love him, but rather that her heart had also been captured by other charms, despite her infatuation with the Noldorin lord. 

Indis of the Vanyar was the one that had seduced her so, ridding her of the joy she once enjoyed. They had known each other for several years now, and yet only recently after her engagement Miriel noticed what she truly felt for her friend. She had always deemed her beautiful, with her long golden locks and darkened skin, but never before had she looked upon her as a woman. But how could Indis ever return her affections? A princess was she, and one that was in no doubt to be engaged to a noble lord. And even if she was not betrothed to another, who would daresay that Indis would feel the same? To love the same gender was rare among elves, although not unknown, and Míriel would not take the risk to think Indis the same as her. She was just a mere seamstress, she acknowledged with a sigh, not to be compared to one of the fairest princesses of the Vanyar. Her golden beauty shimmered on her every step, while Míriel was seldom considered fair. Of course, no one would call her hideous, for all of the Eldar were created with the fairness of Iluvatar, but she knew better than to consider herself beautiful. Beauty, she decided, was a word to be used on her tapestries, on marble statues, on the light of the trees, on Indis… but not on her. 

The door creaked open, revealing Míriel, whose head was lowered in weeping, surrounded by a chaos of linens, clothes, and ribbons. “You cannot keep living like this, Míriel. Your wedding is in a week,” said a deep familiar voice.

Míriel turned to face one of her dearest friends, redheaded Mahtan, who was standing in front of the door. “I would not expect you to understand. No one can.”

Mahtan paced himself towards the shrunk and teary-eyed Míriel, lending her a hand to stand up. “What I understand is that marrying Ñoldóran will not make you happy and that you love Indis and not him. Or am I mistaken?”

She stood up from the cold marble floor and began to unstitch her wedding dress. “If only it was so simple! It is true that I love Indis as I have never loved a maiden, but my love for Finwë has not diminished. To say otherwise would be a lie.” 

“You should talk to him still,” Mahtan was ever so practical, but alas, he was no good at dealing with errands of the heart. He was not to blame, for his great skill made everything a matter of practicality and simple decisions. Míriel sometimes envied his ability to oversimplify all matters, even when a wedding is at hand and a heart is at stake. 

Míriel chuckled bitterly, unstitching the white dress furiously. “And tell him what, that I love the princess of the Vanyar, a friend of his? That I never truly expected to return his affections the way I do? That this pain, that this burden of grief and sorrow, is killing me and that I can no longer bear it? That I love two elves at the time, and that my heart is torn?” She pinched her fingers while undoing the white foliage of her dress, but she did not mind, allowing the droplets of blood to surge around her worn fingers. 

Mahtan’s expression remained unchanged. “That is exactly what you should tell him.” 

Míriel turned with reddened eyes to her ever-passive friend. “I would not be so naive as to believe that he, a king of the Noldor, would look at my love for Indis with kind eyes. How could anyone ever accept such a thing, such a relationship? It would be madness.” 

“Then he would not be worth your tears, nor he would be of your love. The wood that is strong cannot be touched by frost,” Míriel knew that Mahtan spoke the language of crafts, yet she understood well what he meant. 

“I cannot… I cannot tell him the truth, Mahtan. I am not brave enough,” she stuttered, tears running down her cheeks and drips of blood across her long fingers. 

For once Mahtan’s serene expression changed into a warmer, softer stare. “Míriel, you are among the bravest elves that I know. Of so many that were lost in the crossing, you endured. And not only did you survive, but you aided the others as well. If you of all people cannot face Ñoldóran with this, then I do not know who can.”

Míriel nodded, wiping her tears away. “Will you come with me?”

Mahtan assented. “I will if I must.”

***

Arien examined the elven princess in front of her as if she were plagued by a terrible illness. “You do not look well.”

Indis assented her golden curls, once shimmering and splendid, now fell with a dull light that made her divine face seem opaque, almost transparent. “How can I when the only one I have ever loved is betrothed to another, and to a friend I love well?”

“Does Míriel know of this? Of your feelings?” The Maia with the radiant ruby eyes inquired.

She shook her head. “I have loved her for as long as I remember, and yet I never declared my affections. To do would be to risk our friendship, and I was content with admiring her as a friend, and as a friend only.”

Arien’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and her fiery gaze pierced through the maiden’s soul. “Why did you never do so?”   


“Because I was afraid, afraid of so many things… Of rejection, of hatred, of misunderstanding… I never saw an elven maiden love another elven maiden, and I began to think that my love was misplaced, that what I felt was friendship and nothing else. I tried to convince myself that I get nothing for her but it is no avail.” 

If anything, Arien looked even more puzzled. “Why would you think such things?”

“I thought it to be a sin, in my younger years, to love someone of my same gender. I thought that it must go against the creation of Eru, against the song. And there are times where the same dreadful things come to my mind.” 

Arien ran an arm around her sinuous frame. “Do you think the love between Lord Manwë and Lady Varda to be a sin, Indis?” 

“Why, of course not! Who would deem it so?” Indis responded in bewilderment. 

“Then why should your love for Míriel be any different?”   


Indis was left speechless at first. “Because it is different. Lord Manwë and Lady Varda are a male and a female and that is the only way two elves can love each other. But Míriel and I… even if Míriel loved me as I do, we are both female.”   


Arien could not help but to cackle to some degree, much to Indis’ puzzlement. “Love is love regardless of gender, my princess. Who has said otherwise? Ilúvatar has not.” 

“I did not think… I thought it could only be the other way,” said Indis astounded, and felt as if all of her impurities had been eliminated as if she were like any of the Vanyar. 

“Yet you were mistaken. What are you to do now that you know of the truth?” Inquired Arien. 

Indis sighed, sinking back into the melancholy that crushed her. “What is there for me to do? Soon she is to be married to Finwë, and there is nothing I can do about it. I do not even know if she loves me as I do.”   


“She does. She has loved you for some time now,” Arien stated. 

Her heart nearly skipped a beat. “How can you be so certain?” 

“I have looked unto her  _ fëa _ , as all Maiar can. There is a flame inside her that consumes her at this very moment, a flame that your beauty awakened.”

Indis jumped out of her spot with a vivacity that she had not possessed for months. “I must do something! Perhaps I can find her. ”   


“You would have to go through Finwë first. As of right now, they are to be wed in a week.” 

But not even the High King of the Noldor was to stop her now. “I will talk to him then.”

“You better be on your way. Tirion is not as close from here,” Arien remarked. 

“I must make haste. And Arien?” She called the Maia as she was about to walk away. 

“Yes?” 

“Thank you. For everything you said, I mean,” Indis said rather shyly.

A smile illuminated her radiant face. “It was an honor, my princess,” 

The Vanyarin and the Maiar bade farewell, and soon Indis was on her way to meet Finwë, her heart nearly racing out of her chest, For once, she was not ashamed of the bright flame that was blazed in her spirit by Míriel’s loveliness. After nearly running to the palace, she entered the halls of Tirion and requested to see Finwë, who received her warmly.

“Indis, please come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked candidly, his long and dark hair mantling over his shoulders. 

Indis was suddenly hit with the realization that she would have to shatter all of her friend’s hopes of wedding Míriel, but she saw that there was no turning back. There was no subtle way to say it either. “ _ Melin Míriel _ ,” she nearly whispered. 

A huge burden was liberated off her chest at the moment she uttered those terrible, crude heavy words. Finwë’s expression, however, was not at all like what she had imagined. Rather than being hurt or angered, the king showed genuine concern. “I knew it in my heart to be true.” 

“You feared it so?” Indis asked in a slight murmur. 

Finwë assented. “Ever since I met both of you I knew that there was something else to your relationship rather than just pure friendship, but I did not dare to suspect anything else. With time I grew to fall in love with Míriel, thinking that it was just you who felt something and not her. Forgive me, for I have wronged you.”

“I do not understand. There is nothing to forgive.”   


Finwë sighed, and his long dark hair swayed from one side to the other as he paced back and forth. “But alas, there is. I should have known better than to think that your love for her was merely platonic, but I lied to myself. I thought that perhaps Míriel did not know of your affections or that you no longer loved her as you did. I tried to convince myself against falling in love with Míriel, but it was all in vain.”   


Indis knew not quite what to say, and it was then that she saw a solitary tear stream down Finwë’s cheek. “Finwë…”

“If she loves you as well, you can rest assured that I will break off my engagement. I will not stop her from acquiring her happiness, even if it is with someone else.” 

But Indis shook her golden locks in denial. “I think— I think she loves both of us. Arien said… Arien said that she loves me, but I know very well of her affections towards you. She herself has made them clear to me.” 

Finwë was astounded. “Is it possible? Is it possible to love two people at the same time?” 

That was another statement that Indis did not know how to reply to. But at last, the Vanyarin princess spoke. “I think it is possible, yes.”

***

Mahtan stood along Míriel beside the doors of Finwë’s chambers. “I will wait for you here.”   


Míriel assented, and for a small fraction of time, her fear evaporated. She walked forward into her betrothed’s chambers but found him not there. The guards were more helpful in instructing her how to find him. “He is in the common hall, my lady. I believe he has some company there.”   


_ Company? _ The thought filled Míriel with dread, wishing to see her future husband alone, but nevertheless, she kept walking towards the hall.  _ I am doing this for Indis _ , she thought to herself. 

Unlike what she dreaded, the hall was not filled with a conversation but rather with a vacant silence. She opened the doors promptly, only to reveal a scene that made her heart jump in a sudden beat. Indis, dressed in a brilliant gown that reflected the rays of the sun, stood next to Finwë, yet there was no conversation between the two of them. Her entrance startled them, almost returning them to their reality. “Míriel, you come in a good hour,” he said, but his worried tone said otherwise. 

“ _ Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo,” _ said Indis, which only alarmed Míriel increasingly more. “Is there something going on?” She asked. 

Finwë gave a silent stare to Indis and then walked towards the exit, but he was halted by Indis herself. “I think it is best if we do this together,” Indis said in a hushed tone, and Finwë understood, saying nothing more. Yet his eyes betrayed him, and in them, Míriel could see the evident pain, as if he were preparing for a blow to the heart. 

Indis approached her, making her heart race nervously. “Míriel, I have always loved you.” Her tone was so soft that she expected her voice to break down. “I loved you even before I knew it myself. But I know too well of your engagement, and I do not expect you to give it up for me.” 

Her declaration left Míriel speechless, without any breath left to spare. She desired nothing more than to hold her against the wall and kiss her soft lips for an eternity, but as she stared back at Finwë, the sudden realization of the pain she would strike him with hit her. It was now time for Indis to leave, and she rushed out towards the exit as Finwë had done. 

“Indis…” Míriel muttered, the words leaving her tongue. The princess turned to her, and at last, she uttered the words she had so wanted to say. “I love you as well.”   


But then she turned to Finwë behind her. “That does not mean that I do not love you either. It is just that... that I love the two of you. And I am not sure if that is even possible, but I just had to say…” The words were escaping her lips, and she felt their stares on her, judging her every word. “I am sorry. I am sorry for all the pain I have inflicted.”

With tears in her eyes, Míriel headed to the doorway as Indis and Finwë had done before her, but this time she knew there would be no one to halt her. It was not possible for the children of Iluvatar to have more than one spouse, and she knew it well. Finwë and Indis must hate her by now, and she would not blame them. 

But a sudden touch stopped her and before she knew it she was being hugged by the two of them. “You did not have to apologize for anything,” Indis said. 

“You don’t… you don’t hate me?” She asked, astounded and relieved at the same time. 

Finwë chuckled. “Why would we hate you? You are the only one I have ever loved, and I am sure Indis can say the same for her. It is true that I never expected to have two wives, but things change. And for you, I am willing to.”   


“You mean we are still getting married? We are all getting married?” Míriel was even more puzzled than before. 

Indis assented. “Finwë and I were talking about such things, and we believe it is for the best. Both of us love you, and we could grow to love each other as well. I mean, only if you want to, of course…” She stuttered, her dark complexion turning a blushing red.

“Of course I want to! I just did not know it was possible,” Míriel said in a rush

Finwë smiled. “Everything can be possible when one is the King of the Noldor.” 

“And everything can be possible when we are the queens of the Noldor. Which reminds me, we haven’t even kissed yet,” Indis said, her golden hair flowing in such a divine way that Míriel could not help but fiddle with it. 

“There is always a first time for everything,” Míriel said, and before they knew it the two queens of the Noldor were at each other’s lips, and it was the sweetest and eternal kiss either of them ever had. 

**Author's Note:**

> Quenya translations:   
> Melin- I love  
> Elen sila lumenn’ omentielvo- a star shines on the hour of our meeting


End file.
